Monthly Archives: March 2016

It is spring, the time for new growth. And what better way to grow natural Afro hair than protective style giant: single strand twists (SST? I know from past experience that my own hair would grow immensely if kept in SST for a prolonged period at a time of 3 days at least to 2 weeks, pushing it. But I rarely SST my hair in any given year, and never wear SST in public.

Why not? As I reject the Americanized standard of beauty that does not include the natural Black woman, I realize that my reluctance to wear SST is due to my unconscious socialization of American beauty norms. I have been taught that because SST is a Black hairstyle, it is ugly, embarrassing and not fit to be seen in public.

We have tauted the Afro as a powerful symbol of Black Power and Afros are beautiful, potent statements. But what about twists? A twist is a unique hairstyle that can only be upheld without aid by kinky hair. It is inherently Black. But even the natural hair movement is focused on growing hair and wearing it in styles consistent with the beauty standards that had Black women sewing and glueing wigs in. Yes, we will occasionally see twists and braids but these are touted as protective styles, a temporary style to “fix or maintain” or give Afro hair a break. How many naturalistas wear twists or braids as the normal, de facto state of their hair all year round and create styles within that state of hair? Not many. I know I don’t.

But SSTs may be the state of hair best suited for African hair because as we know, keeping our hair “out” all the time is disastrous and drying. I have been so brainwashed that I wonder, even as a challenge, if I can keep my hair in SSTs as a state of hair for a week? A month? Three months? While untwisting my hair becomes the occasional hair state.

This is just a theory, but what do you think? @_ebonninicole_ on Instagram had illustrated above that various, beautiful styles are achievable in twisted form. Basically, the same styles we rock on untwisted hair. I do love my voluminous, untwisted hair. I do. I do. I do. Perhaps it’s time to learn to love my Black hair in a form that is not included in Western beauty ideals.

I’m going to rock SSTs for 3 days and see how I feel, how the people I interact with feel and treat me, and if I can (ever) abandon my Afro, my wash n go and my messy high bun on the regular.

Today was Wash Day for both my son and I. My SheaMoisture condish is finished and I’m thinking of trying TGIN next, for a change. My 2 year old’s hair has grown so rapidly lately and is thicker and curlier than ever. I like to leave it alone but I also don’t want him to look uncared for.

Then, I remembered I had castor oil. It wasn’t the good quality Jamaican Black Castor oil. But it does soften up Afro hair and adds a lot of shine.

My son has a loose curl type, much looser than my kinky Afro hair but despite the generous Iranian hair gene, my African hair gene means those curls dry out and then into mini congos (pieces of hair that form one, big loc). It looks like crazy bedhead as of late. Luckily, the use of a creamy, natural conditioner finished with a teaspoon of castor oil keeps those ringlets moisturized enough that they don’t dry off and get matted.

Of course, it is our job as Black parents to teach our children self-love and self-worth, and I am always including my kid in brushing his own hair, and looking at himself in the mirror so I can point out his great smile, his lovely cheeks, and his beautiful eyes. I don’t think there are enough opportunities to instill a healthy sense of pride in our children, and I don’t want to miss any such occassion.

I have begun endeavouring into black female feminist theory that has been made possible by the amazing, anarchist Blue Heron Book & Zine that has shelves of books on feminist, black empowerment, anarchist and gender studies material from Angelou to Ho Chi Minh.
I’m half way through Bell Hook’s “Ain’t I A Woman?” and I’ve felt emotions from rage, disbelief, grief and sorrow. I consider myself an activist, but she has helped unveil so many truths. Like, ohhh, that’s why I had this racist or sexist experience; and this is an explanation of the history of that experience. Racism hurts, but I like to think if I’m focusing on mending the wound; I won’t notice the sting so much. Hooks helps me analyze the origins of the wound to better care for and mend it.

I have focused so much on experiencing racism, it never occurred to me to explore the roots of sexism until recently. Nobody has endured as much as the plight of the Black woman, and nobody stands as much to gain because we are the key to dismantling White patriarchal society and racism. I don’t know how yet, I have a stack of Hooks, Morrison and Newton to read, but a part of me suspects that (as Hooks has deliciously hinted) bringing Black and White women together (and all other races of women) against White male patriarchy can only be beneficial for progress.

In the last month or so, I’ve rejected popular notions of patriarchal monogamy in favour of polyamory. Or, I’ve stopped lying to myself about what I’ve been practicing for a long time without the epiphany that sexual liberation was possible. There is no need to begin slut-shaming or judging. Just listen me out.

I have always worked hard in my romantic pursuits towards a goal of marriage and monogamy, but recently I discovered this is not what I want. When I actually had the opportunity to meet a traditional man and cater to his needs, this servitude was completely exhausting and demeaning. I was far happier focusing on him for a day and then getting back to my busy life. I was happy.

Then, I met a queer man in a polyamorous relationship with a queer woman, and a heterosexual female. It boggled my mind and I thought it was too radical for me, but we spent a lot of time together and then I realized when we were apart that I was as content and satisfied as with my previous partner. It was balance, it was respectful and it was mutual.

As a queer, feminist woman I feel liberated from the oppressive bondage of monogamous marriage in a patriarchal society. I feel free to pursue my own sexual needs and this doesn’t mean sleeping around with everybody. It just means doing things on my own terms.

Ironically, my attitude towards my appearance has changed since I decided to admit to poly feminism. I do my hair and limited makeup for me. I dress to express, not to impress the male population. I feel happier and more carefree to focus on all aspects of my multifaceted life without thinking there is something wrong with me because I’m not married. I’d rather advocate for social justice, gender and sexual equality and cycling infrastructure than spend my life tied down in some monogamous marriage. Monogamous marriage is a legitimate path to happiness, but that doesn’t mean it’s a one size fit all model for everybody’s needs on this planet.

It is Day 4 of my One Week No Makeup Challenge and it has been the only sunny day this week. I took full advantage and went hiking through the trails with my 2 year old, arriving by bike. The sun felt good, filtering through the trees and warming my legs and cheeks. There was a lot of serious stuff going on in the world from Mexico to Afghanistan, but right here, right now, that sun just washes all that away and says, that is not how things are meant to be.

We all are equal. Everybody in this world. If each nation, and each tribe within that nation works collectively towards the goal of equality–this sun and the carefree aura it exudes–can be felt by everyone. How lucky are we to enjoy a beautiful spring day. We are not stuck labouring away for a few dollars in a candy factory with a dangerously flimsy roof, or forced to go into a war as a young child, or to sell bracelets by the beach to feed our family bread. The Sun is good. This Earth is meant to be good. Why can’t humankind be this way, too?

I love my hair. I love my skin. This is why I am writing this blog, trying out this No Makeup Challenge that has me feeling real, and more connected to people… making me see everyone as one human race. Let’s take our masks off. Apathetic masks. Unfeeling masks. Hardened masks. Let’s let the sun in.

Today is Day 3 of my No Makeup Challenge and I spent it volunteering at the bike shop and reading Huey P. Newton’s autobiography: Revolutionary Suicide, which is so brilliant that I have been rereading and highlighting the shit out of this goldmine of a book.

I cannot believe that only this year I’m learning about who Assata Shakur and Newton, Bobby Seale and others are. The system in Canada has suppressed information about the Black revolution and Black Consciousness from Black people. What do they have to fear if we are liberated? Let us take care, uplift and empower our own and be integrated and celebrated equally in society. I cannot find any books about Black Consciousness in libraries. We did not learn anything about what Black empowerment and unity can look like in our Catholic and public schools. Usually, school was just a pipeline to send certain vulnerable Black youth (including myself) into the prison and foster care system.

But, I digress. I took off my makeup and put on my armour. Social justice is not a pretty fight. But when I think of the corruption and racism that is integrated in every part of the system, I know I cannot sit quiet. When I think of all the Black boys who have been killed, or whose lives have been damaged by drugs or gangs; I think of my innocent baby boy and I do lie in my bed and weep. We all should. It’s not about one of us getting ahead. It’s about all of us living consciously and free.

My hair is part of my armour. It truly is. I feel strength in my Blackness. I feel liberated when I walk through the busy streets with my Afro or my hair up high. Nobody told us Black is beautiful. This isn’t the mainstream message. We were to be crippled by our oppression, now we can wear it like a armour because we know it can’t stop us. We shall overcome.

I have a pretty atypical two year old. He likes swimming, bikes and markers. He goes to the park, picks books out at the library and wants to push the cart at the grocery store. And he’s got wild, crazy hair that we both adore.

Living in a small town with a tiny Black population, I have yet to meet another boy with curly Afro hair. All the boys I’ve seen have very short, buzz-cut hair as if to hide their Blackness and blend in with the White children, and the small mix of Asian and Indian boys. I don’t want to hide our Blackness.

Let’s get one thing straight. Our Blackness is freaking awesome, and anyway and how we can celebrate it, you bet we are. Why try to blend in? Were we meant for mediocrity? If so, we would not have beautiful crowns, we would be without fierce manes. Sharp eyes. Proud cheeks. Full, supple lips. Skin like golden beams. Curving, strong bodies and minds and souls.

If I were still living in the city, I’d probably have played around with my son’s hair a bit more, a few designs here or a man bun and Mohawk style. There is already a deep connection to the Black community, to our Black family and so many other Black boys. Here, we are the lone wolves and I have become somewhat staunch about my son rocking a Huey. P Newton style Afro. Having his beautiful curls wild in the morning spring breeze.

Let them be wild. And free. Let them revel and celebrate their Blackness. The freedom to do so is so empowering. Our next generation needs to know they matter. They are relevant. They are worthy. And nothing needs to change about the way they look to make that a fac

Today is day two of my No Makeup Challenge and I felt more confident and comfortable in my own skin. I kept eye contact with everybody, smiled and made polite conversation. I spoke with an African father of a beautiful daughter at the pool, and he looked at me as if I was a sister from the Mother Land. It made me appreciate my natural Black self that much more, to be of a comforting, familiar sight to someone.

But with the focus off beauty and vanity, I found myself exploring deeper subjects. The Ghomeshi trial verdict. The sexual victims. Sexism. Systemic racism. The politics of natural hair in the professional world. All the injustices, all the dehumanizing acts towards people of my gender and race.

Beauty shines from the inside out. If we are conscious, if we are aware of what it is really important we would spend less time looking in the mirror and more time uplifting and encouraging our Brothers and Sisters. When history, when herstory is made and we are treated as human beings with dignity and equal rights, our lipgloss is not going to be an important factor. We are in the trenches, and it’s going to get ugly. And that is what makes us beautiful.

The children of naturalistas are lucky these days. They didn’t have to grow up in the dreaded era of relaxers (yes, those “no lye” kids ones that still burned) or exclusively flaxen haired Barbies. Imagine what our hair would look like if we were natural from birth? I know right.

Well, that was my goal with my son. My motto is: if he can eat it, it can go on his skin/hair. I didn’t buy into the kiddie natural hair product scheme out there. Kids need very little in their hair. All I use right now is a spray bottle of distilled water and coconut oil, and his tresses are happy as ever!

My son is Afro-Iranian and I believe that Ayurvedic haircare works fine for him because it’s all-natural and suited for the finer texture of Indian type hair. Ayurvedic haircare alone wouldn’t be moisturizing enough for my hair, but it’s a welcome additio

n.

Some of the best Ayurvedic herbs for my son is neem oil, shikakai, and bhringraj. I usually find these in the Indian stores mixed with coconut oil. It smells great. Amazonian murumuru butter is very moisturizing too, and a lot cheaper than buying a name-brand hair lotion or cr

eam.

For special days when I do need my son’s hair done up like family holidays or an opera show, I use aloe vera gel. He uses 5 or less ingredients in his hair. As a baby I washed his hair with a tiny dab of Dr. Bronners castille soap once a week.

Now, I do use a lot of SheaMoisture’s Grow and Restore condish on his hair, but I am happy with the ingredients list. Not everyone is about the natural, curly wild hair. Depending on how you style your kid’s hair, maybe more or different products will work for you but my advice is: start minimally and with edible, natural products and then find solutions with packaged products if need be!

Natural hair is so beautiful. It is an honour to wear these coils and kinks on my head. The best part of my morning routine is fixing my crown before I depart. And it’s made so much easier when your nighttime routine helps you achieve a shiny, gorgeous style for the next day!

I never liked curlers much because they are tough to sleep on comfortably! But they do provide you with volume and defined curls. I think spring is the time to break out romantic curly ‘dos but since it isn’t warm enough in Canada yet for a wash n go, curlers (especially on individually twisted hair) are the way to go! I am lazy so I used curlers on freshly washed and Shea’d flat twists. Using curlers to boost and shape bangs or side bangs are also a very romantic, spring idea!

Curlers in your hair is just a timeless beauty ritual. Curlers are a staple in every curly girl’s arsenal for defined curls. As I have 4A type hair, my curls are not easily defined by themselves and giving them a boost gives me a boost.

Curls. Coils. Kinks. Our hair is beautiful and amazing. It is not to say it doesn’t have challenges. Every hair type does. But once we embrace the good with the bad, it’s so easy to see that there is so much good! Oh, it’s so good and it feels good to be natural and wear your hair proudly! Now go turn some heads.